Mindsiege (7 page)

Other than my steps echoing down the hallway, the building was eerily quiet. As I approached an exit, a fluorescent light flickered above me.
“I never said I wasn’t inside your head…”
Jonas’s words repeated in my mind. I pushed through the exit, thankful I had not run into Jack or Seth again. Jonas had stayed with Georgia.

I thought about checking into a hotel for the night, and planning a way out of this town first thing in the morning. Take the documents and the money Jack gave me just last week when he thought it best that I run. Would Jack miss me?

He no longer trusted me, or even believed me when I told him who was inside my head. How was it possible that he refused to think the worst of Jonas?

I rubbed the area above my heart. Had Jack changed his mind about me? The guy who’d wrapped me in his arms that morning? The person who’d risked everything to break me out of Wellington three days ago?

He’d said nothing to get me to stay when he found me at The Program. Neither had Seth, now that I thought about it. Seth was the one person who’d believed I belonged inside The Program from the first time he met me.

But now? Jack was willing to give up his life to return to Wellington? For what? To protect Addison?

Massaging the spot on my chest above my heart, I walked two blocks, wandering aimlessly from building to building within UK’s huge medical complex. When I finally looked up, I was standing in front of the Keiser-Boone Building. I prepared to climb the steps to the front entrance, but hesitated when I saw the police tape to the right of the building. I pulled out the newspaper article I had saved in my backpack and read. Marci’s body had been discovered outside this very building. And the police tape around a mulched landscape area proved it.

Marci had reported on the latest scientific and medical research coming out of the university, but something had spooked her after Dad was killed. She had been scared out of her mind the last time I saw her.

So, what brought her here?

And why was the Keiser-Boone Building my “gift” from Jonas?

The sign in front of the building read “Agricultural Science Center North—Administrative Offices.” I climbed the steps to the front entrance and stepped inside. The front hallway was typical of many campus office buildings: poorly lit, brown walls, and tiled flooring. The musky smell reminded me of my grandmother’s basement. At each end of the front hallway were double doors, the kind you find in hospitals, not in old brick buildings.

I walked toward the far doors, but stopped when they opened. Out came a man dressed in blue scrubs and a white lab coat. He passed me without a second glance.

I slipped through the doors, and found myself at the entrance of a large laboratory, lit with bright, fluorescent lighting. A long, glass partition separated me from a room filled with people doing exactly what one would expect people to be doing inside a scientific lab: peering through microscopes, studying computer screens, and taking notes and having conversations about what they were viewing through microscopes and on computer screens. I couldn’t hear any of the conversations going on through the glass partition. A couple of lab techs looked up from a conversation, stopping mid-sentence to stare at me. They traded glances before speaking again. One pulled a phone from her pocket and appeared to send a message before returning the phone back to her pocket.

I heard a chatter of voices when I reached a hallway in the center of the building. But the voices were strange. They didn’t come from the lab, but from inside my head. I heard them, but I couldn’t see who they came from.

I looked around, confused, and unable to make out the exact words I heard. I couldn’t feel Jack or Jonas inside my head. And I heard female voices as well as male voices. I ventured down the middle hallway. When I turned a corner, there was only one direction to go next: down.

The hallway behind me was empty. No one bothered to stop me. A part of me felt silly. This was a building for the study of farming, I thought.

I descended to the basement and encountered another set of doors. My jogging shoes squeaked on the tiled floor. I reached out and pulled on the metal handle, but the doors were locked. To their right was some sort of electronic panel, with a small screen and a red light moving back and forth.

“Dang it, Jonas,” I swore under my breath. “Why did you send me to this building? And what did Marci find here?”

Keep going, Lexi. You’re almost there.

I jumped at the sound of Jonas inside my head.
Where are you?
How is it you can mindspeak to me from so far away?

How do you know I’m far away?

I sighed. I was quickly tiring of Jonas. If I ran tomorrow, it would be because of this dark-haired, smoking man. But for today, I had to know whether what Dad and Marci found inside this building was why Jonas was inside my head now, and why Dad and Marci had been killed. I just hoped I didn’t get
myself
killed in the process. It would do me no good to stop the mind games if I ended up dead. I almost laughed out loud at my own master-of-the-obvious thought.
What am I doing, here, Jonas?

Lexi, it’s time you saw more of what we are. You might not like it, but you cannot hide from it forever. You have a responsibility to learn and use your power.

Right.
You’re crazy. You and what army is going to make me?
The words sounded just as clichéd and childish inside my head.

I won’t need an army, Lexi. When you see what’s at the end of two more hallways, you’ll be begging me to help you understand everything I know about our very existence.

I’m at a dead end.

Approach the screen to the right. Look straight into it with your eyes open wide. Try not to blink.

This was insane. I wiped my hands on my jeans. Why was I even listening to him?
I’m not doing this. I can’t. Why would my retinas even be recognized?

Because you are the clone of Sandra Whitmeyer.

Just hearing that woman’s name made me wince.
You’re telling me that Sandra Whitmeyer was a part of whatever is going on in this building? The woman who’s been in a coma for who knows how long? And that even my retinas match hers?

More or less.

I let out a huge breath, puffing hair out of my face. “Okay. Here goes nothing. Or everything.” I positioned my head close to the security panel. Inside, a tiny mechanism with a faint red light moved across the screen, much like the inside of a photocopy machine.

Seconds later, the latch on the door clicked loudly. I tried the metal handle again and gained access.

Jonas directed me down two more hallways. The chatter inside my head got louder. The walls and doors were similar to those of a hospital, but even more similar to the hallways I had just left at The Program.

I was in the bowels of the basement. There was no sign of an exit anywhere. I had turned so many different directions, I wasn’t even sure where I was anymore.

Stop. To your left is a door that leads to a courtyard in the middle of the building. It’s two stories down from street level, and there’s no way to exit the courtyard but back through the same entrance. You might be recognized when you walk into this area, so be ready to run back the way you came. If that happens, I’ll try to get you out.

What do you mean, you’ll try?
I asked.

Just be ready to run.

Wait, Jonas. What am I going to see?

And ruin the surprise? I don’t think so.

Chapter Eight

The room was filled with tables and chairs, like a cafeteria. Light filtered down from the skylights above—outside light that was quickly fading given the evening hour.

People buzzed about: children, teens, adults. At the tables, adults sat across from small children. They read to them, helped them with what looked like homework.

Teens of all ages talked in groups of four or five.

I scanned the room. What was this? It reminded me of Wellington’s dining hall between meals, when students gathered to finish homework, study for exams, or simply catch up on gossip.

I walked slowly around the perimeter. Every once in a while, a child would look up at me. One child made eye contact and smiled. She couldn’t have been more than ten years old. She was wearing a navy, patterned dress and leggings, and her hair was pulled into a loose and messy ponytail. She immediately pushed away from what she was doing and ran to me.

After giving me a hug, she crooked her finger, asking me to bend down to her. I did, and she whispered, “You look different. Where’ve you been?”

Every muscle in my neck and spine locked up. A cold sweat broke out across my forehead. “Do you recognize me?”

She nodded, then pulled me close again. After placing a quick kiss on my cheek, she scurried back to her table.

I stood up straight, quickly turned back toward the exit—and smacked into another person.

“Oh, I’m…” My words trailed off when I stared into eyes I knew so well that I could recite their retinal pattern. Only… something was terribly wrong.

“Who are you?” the person asked.

I studied him—his cobalt blue eyes and his sandy blond hair that was cut short enough to spike in the front. Everything about him was nearly identical to Jack.
My
Jack.

“Who am I?” I repeated back to him.
Oh my gosh, Jonas. How do I get out of here?
But Jonas wasn’t inside my head anymore. He had left me. He knew what I was going to find. And he left me.

Then a different presence entered my head. A very distinct presence, unlike anything I had ever felt. Instead of fuzzy around the edges, I could clearly see the person inside my head. When this person mindspoke there was no question that it was the exact person standing before me now.
Why have we never met?
the Jack look-alike asked.

My knees buckled. This person before me, with hands identical to those that have held me and brushed hair from my face. Hands that have held my own, that have grazed my lower back. Those same, but different, hands caught me as my legs betrayed me and I slumped to the ground.

He supported my back and brought me back up. My face was inches from his. I couldn’t keep my fingers from reaching out to trace the outline of his cheekbone. It was Jack. But it wasn’t. Everything but the way his hair was cut.

Before I could recover, a group of men and women entered the room. Some were dressed in black suits, others wore blue scrubs and white lab coats. My eyes darted from them back to the person in front of me.

Come with me.
Jack’s look-alike grabbed my hand and led me to a group of teenagers in the corner.

When I saw their familiar faces, I stopped dead. I curled my trembling fingers into fists.

Dia!
he mindspoke.

A redhead turned in her seat, and when she saw me she said, “Holy mother of all that is good and normal in this world!”

“My thoughts exactly,” I whispered, as I looked at the spitting image of Briana Howard, my archnemesis from school. Everything matched, from too much makeup to those unruly red curls.

Dia, we don’t have time. Make them not see her.
Jack-look-alike turned to me.
Sit. Act normal.

“Normal,” I whispered. “Right.” I pulled out a chair and sat. Dia moved her textbook—
Molecular Biology
—to sit in front of me.

She then turned toward the herd, who had split up and walked from table to table. Two men approached us. “Hey, Dr. Chi,” Dia said. “What’s going on today?” Before my very eyes, this Briana look-alike, Dia or whatever her name was, changed in appearance. She made her chest a little larger. Her hair became tamer. Loose red curls lengthened around her face.

The eyes of the man standing beside Dr. Chi roamed from Dia’s face to her chest and back up again. His lips curved upward at the edges.

“Hi, Dia. Has anyone that you didn’t recognize walked through here in the last twenty minutes?” Dr. Chi asked.

“Oh gosh, no, Dr. Chi. It’s just been us. Has there been another breach?”

Dr. Chi and Roaming Eyes looked at every person at the table, seeming to recognize each of us, including me. Once they were satisfied, they moved on to the next table, never answering Dia’s breach-of-security question.

Okay, let’s go,
Jack-look-alike thought.

I stood and followed, as did Dia. My heart continued to pound. I had to get out of that basement, but I also wanted answers.

Jack’s look-alike led us around tables and to the door. The exit was now guarded by a man and a woman in dark suits, very much like the people I saw in SUVs that morning. As we approached, Jack-look-alike tightened his grip on my hand and mindspoke,
Don’t look at them. Dia will make sure they see someone different when they look at you.
They examined us closely, but let us pass. We headed down the hallway in the opposite direction from where I had originally come in.

The second we were out of earshot and eyeshot of everyone, I let out a huge breath. Jack’s twin turned and said, “Start talking.”

“Yeah, who the hell are you?” Dia asked, stopping in the middle of the hallway. “Why do you look like Dr. Whitmeyer? Only in cheap clothes?” She gave me a once-over.

“And decades younger,” the clone of Jack added.

I looked down at my clothes. There was nothing cheap about a North Face jacket or my two-hundred-dollar running shoes—which I was using for more and more running these days.

When I didn’t speak, Dia stepped closer. “Oh, look, Lin. She’s scared.”

“There you guys are,” another familiar voice said behind me.

I turned slowly, bracing for another clone. Sure enough, the boy behind me looked like Jonas—except clean-shaven.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” He even talked like Jonas—smug arrogance. “And, oh my, you look just like her.” His grin didn’t fade, and he didn’t really seem shocked at my likeness to the doctor. He cocked his head, studying me.
Fascinating.
The word, mindspoken by this replica of Jonas, wrapped around my brain like silk.